The Vahshali
by Gary Merchant
Summary: A crashed space ship and its occupant provide a puzzle for the Doctor and UNIT, but does Jo Grant hold the key?


THE VAHSHALI

The creature stared at its captors, its eyes taking in everything around it. Encrusted scales covered its hide, as the muscles on its four arms flexed; claws probed its body, checking for any injuries. The eyes were deep set into a face dotted with hairline spikes. Occasionally, it let out a howl, revealing sharp fangs within a wide mouth. "Ugly looking brute," Captain Yates surmised. "Still, I suppose beggars can't be choosers in the looks department."

"That's one way of looking at it," the Doctor said. "But imagine what he thinks of you humans – all blotchy pink faces. To him, you're probably the ugly one."

"What ever you say, Doctor." Mike Yates shrugged. As far as the Brigadier was concerned it was alien and possibly hostile, so it wasn't worth taking any chances. "You've seen the report, I take it?"

"Yes." The Doctor recalled to memory the dossier handed to him by Lethbridge Stewart just an hour ago. "His ship crashed in open parkland last night, and he was the only occupant. All attempts to communicate with him have apparently failed, and he was immediately brought here to avoid any panic among the locals."

"That's about the size of it, Doctor." Yates looked at the creature, now crouched down in a corner of the cell. "You're sure it's a 'he?'"

He stroked his chin. "Well, I don't like to make wild guesses, but until we know otherwise, then yes."

"You've not seen anyone like him before then?" It was Jo Grant who posed the question.

"Not that I recall, Jo," he replied, offering her a reassuring smile. "I take it the ship has been moved somewhere more secure, Mike?"

He nodded. "It's in one our aircraft hangers – huge thing."

"Right. That's our next port of call. Coming, Jo?"

She didn't immediately answer. There was something… then it was forgotten. "Okay, coming."

The hangers were on the far side of the base, so a trip in Bessie was the order of the day. Jo was unusually quiet during the journey. "Wake up, Jo!" She jumped at the Doctor's innocent chiding. "You were miles away."

"Sorry," she apologised. "I can't seem to think straight."

The Doctor grinned. "Too many nights on the town with a certain Captain?"

Even though it was a purely social thing with her and Mike Yates, Jo couldn't help blushing, recovering her composure just as Bessie pulled into the hanger. Lethbridge Stewart was waiting for them.

"My, my," the Doctor observed, gazing up at the craft. "Captain Yates was right, it is huge."

"And that's as much as we know at the moment," the Brigadier told him, as the three of them stepped closer to the ship. In size, it was larger than a fighter jet, but aside from the obvious damage to the front of the craft, its sleek design was something to be admired. "You'd think that its weight would be comparable to its size," Lethbridge Stewart said, "but it was relatively easy to extract it from the crash site to bring it here."

"Interesting." The Doctor was now crouched beneath the undercarriage, where the outer shell of the craft had been torn away, providing an entrance of sorts. He climbed up the metal ladder propped up against the widest part of the opening, just large enough for him to squeeze through.

The instrumentation inside was of a type the Doctor hadn't seen before. He touched the walls. "Hmm. A variable mass would explain the minimal weight ratio. But how is this ship piloted? Where is the central navigation?" He made for what he assumed was the cockpit, where some instrument panels were clearly burnt out, but damage to the nose cone through to the underside of the craft didn't explain a complete lack of power on all systems. There should have been some residual energy present, but there was nothing. And no indication of anything that might be recognised as a flight deck.

Puzzled, the Doctor exited the ship the same way he'd entered, where Jo and the Brigadier were waiting. "I don't recognise the design, but it's clearly a shuttle of some sort. No power inside, but as far as I can tell that's nothing to do with the crash."

"Do you think it's a casualty of some space war?" the Brigadier speculated.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, if that were the case, I would have expected to see the effects of weapons fire against the hull. That hasn't happened here." His hand brushed along the underside. "No, I'd say it's more likely that it ran into something. Quite a nasty collision too, judging by the result – hello, now what's this?" The Doctor pulled, and removed a broken piece of hardware that had been jutting into the sheared hull. "Now that doesn't belong with this craft – even the metal alloys don't match."

The Brigadier took it from him. "I'll have our boffins check it over, see if they can identify it by the morning."

Unseen by the others, Jo had climbed the metal ladder and was now peering into the interior of the shuttle. As her hands ran along its surface, there was a sense of familiarly about this ship. But that was impossible, she told herself. "Jo!" The Doctor's call brought her back to reality. "Come on, nothing more to see here."

She stepped down. "Sorry, I was just curious."

He smiled. "Nothing wrong with a healthy dose of curiosity, Jo. But given the lateness of the hour, I think its time we all called it a day, don't you?" Jo smiled back, nodding. But her mind wasn't completely focussed. It was… elsewhere.

Sleep normally came easily to Jo, whether it was while travelling in the TARDIS, or in her sleeping quarters at UNIT HQ, where she was now. But this night she felt unable to settle, having tossed and turned in bed for almost an hour before giving up. She wasn't even remotely tired. Jo lay there for a further minute, gathering her thoughts. Then she got up from the bed and quickly changed into her day clothes.

The Doctor was also wide-awake. The difference was that he didn't need as much sleep as humans, and at least there was something to occupy him. Hence his return to the hanger, where he had resumed his study of the alien craft. Not that he had learned much more from his initial examination, but the discovery of an unknown species and their technology had always fascinated him.

Throughout his many travels in time and space, there was always the prospect of encountering something new. All the more intriguing then, when such an encounter happened on Earth. He began to sing. "We were strolling along, down Neptune Way…"

Jo found herself walking. Part of her accepted what was going on, but the other part – the rational part – couldn't help but be worried. Had she been taken over or controlled in some way? Or was she following some gut instinct that she could not identify?

After winding her way through the UNIT corridors, she arrived at the cells. Sergeant Benton was on duty. "Hello, Miss Grant," he said. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," she heard herself saying. "I thought I might come and take another look at the alien."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't advise it, Miss. Best if you leave him alone for the night."

This was not what she wanted to hear. "I know it's silly," she said, "but I'd feel a whole lot better if I could see that he was still under lock and key – the cell is secure, isn't it, Sergeant Benton?"

"Yes, but – oh, go on then," he said, giving in. "But don't tell the Brigadier."

Jo felt herself smiling. "I won't breathe a word." Then she walked on toward the occupied cell. She could hear the creature howling, its cries becoming louder with each footfall. When she had arrived, Jo checked back to make sure that Benton couldn't see her. Satisfied, she moved up to the cell door, a sturdy metal barred frame.

The creature turned to face her. Jo wasn't too worried. As long as the door remained locked, she was safe. "It was you, wasn't it?" Jo said – this time of her own volition. "I felt something touching my mind – here, in the cells, and later inside your ship." The connection was stronger now, and though she tried to fight it, she knew what had to be done.

Quietly, Jo reached into her trouser pocket and drew out her ring of skeleton keys. The compulsion was overwhelming, as she inserted the first one into the lock. It would take just a few moments work…

"I thought I'd find you here."

The Doctor peered out from the seared opening of the ship. "Hello, Lethbridge Stewart. No rest for the wicked, eh?"

The Brigadier sighed. He had long ago accepted that the Doctor wasn't human, but he still found it hard to accept that he could function without sleep. "Any luck so far?"

"No." The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "I've tried everything I can think of, but I can't access any power to a single circuit board – or whatever constitutes one in this shuttle."

"What about reversing the polarity or whatever it is you do?"

"Tried that – nothing. It's almost as if the whole thing is dead." He shrugged. "Well, I must say, Brigadier, I'm surprised to find you still up and about."

"Yes, well I wanted to make sure you got the results of that piece of metal you pulled out."

The Doctor quickly scanned the report. "So, it collided with an orbiting satellite, hence the crash."

"One of the Americans'." The Brigadier allowed himself a wry smile. "There'll be one hell of a row about it when they find out."

"Well, with so much space junk still in orbit around this planet, something like this was bound to happen at some point." The Doctor read the remainder of the report. "No, there's nothing else here that helps."

"And there's nothing more you can learn from this ship?" The Doctor shook his head. "Then for heaven's sake, man, go to bed – and before you say it Doctor, I know that sleep may be for tortoises, but even a Time Lord needs rest."

It was clear that the Brigadier was not going to take 'no' for an answer. The Doctor smiled in defeat. "All right, Alistair. You win."

The creature's eyes followed Jo as she entered the cell, locking the door behind her. It made no movement toward her. It simply waited until she was sitting down, her eyes meeting its gaze, as though hypnotised.

In a sense, that was true. Jo was self-aware, but had no control of her actions. Rational thought told her that she was scared out of her wits, but there was also a soothing influence nullifying those emotions, so that on the surface she appeared absolutely calm.

And now she sat, facing the creature. Was it a he? The question had come into her head unbidden, and the answer came back in the affirmative. Its howling had now been replaced by something softer, as it began to flex its arms, talons extending and retracting. Jo remained perfectly still, the fear within her unable to be expressed, as the creature moved forward, opening its arms to envelop her.

Sergeant Benton looked up as the Doctor approached. "Hello, Doc. You're working late tonight."

"Don't you start," he gently admonished the Sergeant. "I've just had the Brigadier on my back, telling me to rest."

"Must be catching," said Benton. "Miss Grant is still up and about."

"Jo? What's she doing at this hour?"

"She went into the cell block, to see our alien visitor." He checked his watch. "That was half an hour ago!"

"And she's still there?" Concern was etched upon the Doctor's face as he moved past Benton and called out. "Jo! Are you all right?" There was no answer. Without another word, Benton slipped the safety catch off his rifle as he followed the Doctor into the cellblock, cursing himself for letting Jo through in the first place.

What they saw shocked both men into silence. Inside the cell, the creature held Jo in its embrace, its four arms pressing her slight form against its own. Benton raised his rifle, but the Doctor blocked him. "No, you might hit Jo."

"But she's in danger." Benton forced the gun barrel between the bars of the cell, ready to fire.

Then Jo looked up, as though seeing them for the first time. "She is safe." It was not her voice, but the words came from her mouth. "There is nothing to fear."

The Doctor and Benton exchanged puzzled glances. The deep and melodious voice emanating from Jo spoke again. "I use the child to translate my words into your language. I am Lhom, of the Vahshali."

A hurried conference was convened in the Brigadier's office, with Lethbridge Stewart barely holding his temper. "Benton, how could you let this happen?"

"It wasn't my fault, sir," he protested. "Miss Grant seemed fine. How was I to know she wasn't herself?"

"Yes, all right, you two." The Doctor attempted to diffuse the argument. "Brigadier, I don't really think you can blame Benton. From what he says, it's clear that the creature was manipulating Jo in some way, but not completely submerging her own personality. So Benton wouldn't have suspected a thing – and nor would you, Lethbridge Stewart, not if you'd been presented with the same scenario."

"Well, be that as it may," said the Brigadier, "what do we do? What does this Lhom fellow want?"

"Isn't that obvious?" the Doctor stated. "He wants to communicate. And above all else, he wants his freedom."

Still within the Vahshali's embrace, Jo's fears had now been calmed, and what remained was a feeling of contentment. She felt safe in his arms, as though he were her protector. She had never felt as at peace as she was at that moment, and probably never would again. "It's all a matter of perceptions," she told Lhom, in answer to his question. "Your appearance makes you different from anyone else on this world, and anything that's different or unknown, people fear."

"Or, in the case of the Doctor, try to learn about us." There was no anger in Lhom's voice, which resonated inside Jo's head. "Your friend, he is a scientist – and not from this world."

"I travel with him," she replied. "The Doctor is a good man, and he's shown me so much of the universe."

"And that is why I chose you, Jo. You have experienced life outside of your own planet. You know of other life forms."

"But why choose me? Why not the Doctor?"

"Because you are young," Lhom replied. "It is only the youngest minds that can link with the Vahshali."

Jo nodded her understanding, and let Lhom's thoughts wash over her. The two of them were now fused mentally, each sensing the other's thoughts and feelings. Nothing was hidden, and Jo could sense the goodness that was a natural part of the Vahshali. To them, the act of deception was an alien concept. When the time came, Jo would again be a voice for Lhom's words. And she would be prepared.

The next morning saw the Doctor in the cell with Jo and the Vahshali. Communication between them was relatively straightforward, with Jo acting as a translator when the meanings of certain words were not immediately clear. Once Lhom's requirements were stated, the Doctor relayed them back to the Brigadier. "He needs to return home to his people," he explained. "The Vahshali are a peaceful race, but there will still be concern at his continued absence."

"But how can he return?" the Brigadier protested. "You've seen for yourself the state of that ship. I can't see how that thing could be made airworthy."

"I've explained all that to him," the Doctor replied. "Lhom says that, with my help, he can repair the damage. And I'm inclined to believe him."

The Brigadier still wasn't convinced. "What about Miss Grant? What kind of hold does he have over her?"

"Lethbridge Stewart, she's not in any mortal danger," the Doctor assured him. "I sat with them for over an hour, and while there is undoubtedly a connection there, Jo knows her own mind. Lhom simply needs her to act as a relay for his words to be heard."

The Brigadier mulled all of this over. "I'm trusting you, Doctor. If you say no harm will come to Miss Grant, then I'll agree to this. But the less people who know about it, the better."

All non-essential personnel were asked to leave the hanger, leaving only the Doctor, the Brigadier, Yates and Benton. Once they were certain the hanger was secure, a tarpaulin on a UNIT jeep was thrown back, revealing the Vahshali and Jo. Lhom had now released Jo from his embrace so that he could move freely around his shuttle, but their mental link still binded them. She watched him as he examined the damage, and in turn the Doctor was studying both of them.

It was more than a simple mind link, he realised. The two of them were now part of each other. "He says repairs are possible," Jo informed him.

"I'm very glad to hear it," he said. "Shall we make a start?"

The Brigadier, Yates and Benton stood to one side, and watched in curious fascination as the work began. "Do you think they really can fix that ship, sir?" Yates asked. "It's taken quite a knock."

"I don't mind admitting, Captain Yates, I did have my doubts," Lethbridge Stewart replied. "But the Doctor seemed convinced it can be done."

The workload was equally divided, with Doctor concerning himself with the internal structure, while Lhom focussed on the ragged tear on the shuttle's underside. All the while, Jo acted as a go-between, guiding the Doctor in his repairs via instructions from Lhom. By the time his work was completed, the Doctor could at last appreciate just how technologically advanced the Vahshali were. "I understand now," he later said to Lhom and Jo. "This ship operates on more than just a physical level."

Jo nodded. "Mental energy, aligned with a bio-sensory system." Although the answer came from Lhom, Jo's connection with him seemed to have given her the understanding of the knowledge she was imparting. "The Vahshali become one with their vessels, a bit like your link to the TARDIS. Without a pilot, all power to the shuttle shuts down, like a failsafe."

The Doctor looked up in admiration at the Vahshali craft. "A technological marvel."

"That's all very well," said the Brigadier, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. "But how do you resolve that?" He pointed at the ripped undercarriage.

The Doctor smiled. "Watch."

Lhom positioned himself under the shuttle, his arms extending up. As his talons touched, the rest of his body rose up and adhered itself to the damaged area. That part of the ship seemed to ripple underneath him for a moment. When he finally detached himself from the ship, that part of the tear had sealed, with only a hairline break in the structure, which even now was fading to nothing.

The process was duly repeated along the rest of the hull. "The shuttle is composed of living metal," the Doctor explained. "Except that in this case, it forms a bond with its pilot, as Jo said. Now that bond has been re-established, and for Lhom to close that tear it was rather like using a sticking plaster to cover a cut or a graze. The principle is the same, and just as effective."

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Yates breathed, "I'm not sure I would have believed it."

"Absolutely incredible," the Brigadier agreed.

With repairs completed, the shuttle was now ready for take off. All that remained was to say goodbye. The Vahshali, recognising this, turned to Jo, opening his arms for one final embrace. At a nod from the Doctor, she let herself be taken into Lhom's arms, his thoughts linking with hers. "You have been a good friend to me, Jo. I shall not forget you."

Her voice was tinged with regret. "Do you have to go?"

"I cannot stay, you know that. Perceptions, remember?"

"Yes." A question came to her. "Will I forget all that you've shared with me?"

"The knowledge and technology of my species will be nothing more than a passing memory," he replied. "But you will never totally forget. Somewhere inside you, I shall always be there."

The tears began to fall. "I've learned so much from you."

"And the Doctor will show you even more. You are right, Jo – he is a good man, and he will remain a true friend. And now, it is time for us to separate." His arms released her, and Jo felt a brief moment of dizziness as the connection between them was broken. Then she felt the Doctor's arm around her, and was grateful to have him there.

Everyone had been caught up in the moment, and it was the Doctor who broke the silence. "Well, good luck, old chap. Have a safe journey home."

Lhom stared at the extended hand in puzzlement. It was Jo who placed the talons of his upper right arm into the Doctor's palm, and the handshake was completed.

A tearful Jo watched the path of the Vahshali shuttle as it climbed higher into the sky. The Doctor was by her side. "Are you all right?"

She looked up at him. "I just feel so lost – so empty inside."

"That's understandable." He placed a protective arm around her. "You've had the most personal connection possible with an alien life form, with both of you having shared each other's memories and thoughts. In all my travels, that's something I've never experienced. I must confess, I'm rather jealous."

Jo caught the twinkle in his eye as she looked up. The shuttle was now no more than a speck in the sky. "Doctor, do you think Lhom will be okay?"

"I'm hardly the best person to answer that," he said. "You know him better than any of us. What do _you_ think?"

A warm memory of contentment filled Jo's mind, and she was confident in her reply. "Yes," she said with absolute certainty. "He'll be okay."


End file.
